Short-term guests in my
fridge, pantry, cabinet — but just
until they are served.
Groceries
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Short-term guests in my
fridge, pantry, cabinet — but just
until they are served.
Domestic mountains
rimmed with grime, sponge scaling this
Everest of suds.
Kitchen windows fogged,
oven-baked chicken is the
scent of homecoming.
Expected to know
all the dishes, servers eat
the entire menu.
Undercooked pancakes,
misspelled cards, weeds for flowers.
Love makes them perfect.
All around it, the
town is dead. Pity the poor
taken investors.
Shopped a membership
warehouse store today. Got six
years’ worth of ketchup.
Vegans, stay away,
lest your firm resolve melt from
tender smoked brisket.
I eat meat because
it’s Texas. Tender steak like
beef cotton candy.
Some people like to
cook. Then there’s me who dreads that
thing called dinner hour.